"Maybe we'll make out tonight then, or go dancing, depending on what we feel like later," he suggests squeezing her hand. He could use to get his mind out of the mess that it was in, thoughts of being tortured filling it all because of a failed mission that he'd committed.

They'd never failed together. It was the only one he'd ever properly failed, when he had killed his target, but not his handler in Odessa. When he'd let Natasha live, the flashes in his brain about it all were still a jumbled mess, and he very well could not fight them off here in the city so he tries to burry them deeper.

"Did someone teach you how to play darts somewhere, or did you just happen to pick it up sometime?" He asks curiously, "How about billiards?"